


the History Fair

by sheeplessnight



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: High School AU, M/M, Modern AU, Teacher AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-11-12 17:23:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 6,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18015146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheeplessnight/pseuds/sheeplessnight
Summary: Aravos is the new literature teacher at Katolisdale High School. He's educated, renowned, and beautiful and he's completely encroaching on Viren's stomping grounds. Viren, as the head of the history department, needs to organize and manage the upcoming history fair. When he voices his complaints about the lack of student morale for the fair, Aravos volunteers himself to assist. Much to his distaste, Viren suddenly finds himself working closer with this new prick than he ever hoped to.  How close can they get before something gives?





	1. The Boardroom

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy!! Please comment, let me know how you like it <3 (-;

Viren stepped out of the board meeting craving his afternoon cigarette well before afternoon. Normally he sat in the boardroom voicing his complaints and suggestions of how Principal Harrow should be running the school and left the room satisfied. Today deviated from the usual. A new literature teacher had joined their team: one with outstanding references and unbelievable achievements.

The way Harrow praised their new teacher was enough to make Viren gag. The man wasn’t even modest during the principal's introduction. He sat tall in his chair smugly grinning, nodding gently as Harrow painstakingly recounted his every honor. When it was over, their newest literature teacher gave a flowery ‘thank you’ speech. No one had asked for one. Viren’s blood boiled and he was eager for the peacocking to end. 

It was a relief when the head of the arts department shared a few financial concerns and Viren took time to catch his breath. 

The conversation came to him when the topic of the upcoming, annual History Fair arose. Viren, head of the history department, had a few issues this year around. The other history teachers, he had explained, lacked effort the previous years in motivating their students. This left Viren in charge of not only the event but also student morale. Every year it only worsened.

Harrow sympathized.

The wretched literature teacher spoke up, “If you are needing assistance, perhaps I can help. I have been a chairman of many school academic fairs. What is literature without history, afterall?”

Viren gaped angrily at the man’s brashness. Harrow’s expression lit up. The coy way the man’s blue eyes shone as they met Viren’s filled him with contempt. “I would not want to put too much stress on you while you’re still settling in,” Viren deflected. 

Opposing him, Principal Harrow was far too giddy, saying “No, this is an excellent idea. Viren is one of our best teachers. I believe having the two of you work together can really help you get a sense of the school, Aravos.” 

He could hardly enjoy Harrow’s praise.

Dread set in as Viren, who gave subtle attempts to decline the suggestion without outright declining it, realized Harrow wasn’t going to change his mind. It was settled.

Viren sat across from Aravos, holding eye contact with him as the man’s smug smile did not waiver. Viren gallantly glared back at those cold, complacent blue eyes. They looked sharp in comparison to his pale, freckled face and the auburn hair which framed it. He was quite beautiful and the history teacher hated him for that too.

Emotions became a sizzling pool of negative energy inside of him. Sure. He would do this. Yet he was not going to make it fun for Aravos.

And the gleam in those stark blue eyes told Viren one thing.

Aravos knew that, too.


	2. Early Dismissal

The end of the day came and Viren was pleased to have been un-interrupted while he navigated his predicament. He organized his desk, cleaned the board and classroom. All the while, his mind elsewhere. The Aravos situation. Why was it always English teachers? Viren seethed. The universe couldn’t throw him a curve ball for once? How hard was it to find a math teacher he hated? 

It must be something fundamental about English which attracted the kinds of people Viren hated like flies. His ex-wife had been a literature major herself and Viren could see he was naive to have fallen for her.

He collapsed in his office chair, feeling weary over his thoughts. His hands were in his head when a knock came at the door. Immediately, he straightened in his chair, dispelling any signs of personal distress. “It’s open,” He called, apprehensive that Aravos had decided to pay him a visit _first_.

“Hey, Dad,” Claudia’s voice filled the room and filled Viren with relief. 

“Hey Claud,” He replied as she entered.

“Soren’s at practice until five-thirty. Do you mind if I wait in here?”

Of course not, Viren had said and motioned for her to sit wherever. Viren idly began grading papers as she settled in. It was nice not to be alone in the room, he thought as he began to focus better. His classroom could feel like a mental prison on occasions.

He finished a stack of papers and neatly put them away before moving onto another. For a moment, he admired his empty classroom occupied by his daughter. She sat with her feet up against an adjacent desk--a position Viren would _never_ allow during class--and a book in her hands. It was easy for Viren to be proud of her--she effortlessly followed in all the paths he wanted her to walk. She had all the youth and beauty of her mother but she thought like him. He never had to pressure her to do anything, she already was interested in doing it. And, much to her chagrin, he could always tell what she was thinking.

Viren shuffled a few papers around before he decided he couldn’t focus anymore. He was stressed about his collaboration with Aravos. To hell with working. “Why don’t we go get ice cream?” Viren asked Claudia suddenly. It would feel nice to give his kid a treat and also have some himself. 

Claudia perked up from her book as she considered his offer. “What about Soren?”

Viren supposed he should be grateful that his kids were so close and he took a deep breath as he stood, grabbing his cane from against his desk. “I’ll go talk to coach.” He tossed Claudia his car keys. “Warm the car up for us,” Viren said. The mischievous grin that formed across his 16 year old daughter’s face struck fear into his heart. “And do not blast music in the parking lot. I know this is your high school, but it is my job. And Principal Harrow knows what my car looks like.”

Claudia rolled her beautiful green eyes and danced out of the door, with Viren following a slower pace behind. 

\--

The weather was brisk out on the football field. Coach Amaya and Gren stood at the sidelines, watching the team as they did their usual routine. Soren was a senior now and a key player in the varsity football team. This would be exciting to many students’ parents but the history teacher couldn’t be less excited. 

Yet it made his son happy, and Viren supposed that was what mattered.

Coach Gren called out to the field for Soren to return to the sidelines. His son jogged up to them, smiling at the sight of them. “Phew, what’s up? Coaches, Dad,” He greeted them all. 

“Early dismissal,” Viren said, “Unless you rather play football and not get ice cream.”

“What! Surprise ice-cream? Woo!” Soren punched the air and started jogging off towards the gym without another word. Viren thanked the coaches again and dismissed himself, going to wait for Soren outside the gym.

\--

The history teacher waited patiently in the empty hallway. The quiet of the school after hours was relaxing. There was something unique about the atmosphere of a room filled with loud and rowdy kids now quiet and peaceful. Enchanting, perhaps. 

Lost in his thoughts, Viren hardly noticed the nearby classroom’s door open.

“Mister Viren,” The gentle voice that called to him ignited his fight or flight instincts. Back to reality, he saw Aravos standing in the doorway. A classroom next to the gym? _There_ was the sense of humor he knew Principal Harrow possessed. “No need to be shy, you can always knock,” Aravos said with a mockingly coy smile. 

Viren burned with anger that Aravos assumed he was standing outside for the conceded literature teacher. “I’m sorry, Aravos, I was waiting on my son. Not deliberating on bothering you or not,” the bite in his voice was stronger than he intended. Before Aravos could dominate the conversation by asking about Viren and his son, he quickly added, “and while I’m grateful for your offer to help, I’ve mapped out a game plan for the history fair. Looks as if I will be able to handle it myself, afterall.”

Aravos tilted his head slowly as he considered my words. “Are you sure? You sounded rather distressed this morning talking about it.”

Viren’s grip against the handle of his cane tightened. Couldn’t this hipster bastard take a hint? “Yes, I am su--” 

He had failed to notice Aravos’s steps towards him and was surprised at the sudden proximity the literature teacher had to him. Viren could smell the other man’s cologne, a scent which likely had the term ‘midnight’ in its name. He stiffened, trapped. “Do you not play well with others, Mister Viren?” Aravos asked in a husky voice and it took all of Viren's self-control not to land a punch.

The doors to the gym opened and Aravos stepped away before any onlookers had a chance to catch how close they had been standing. Viren’s knuckles were white against the leather of his cane as Soren bounded up next to him. “Ice cream time!” He cheered.

"This is your son?" Aravos asked and Soren suddenly took notice of him, calming himself in the presence of an adult stranger. "I'm Mr. Aravos, the new AP Literature teacher," he offered a hand to the 18 year old. Soren smiled and shook the man's hand firmly while Aravos gave a glance between Soren and Viren. "Perhaps you'll be in my class this next semester."

"Not likely," Viren muttered as he put an arm around his son. He didn't like this guy at all. Too charismatic. Too charming. He behaved as if he knew a secret no one else knew. "Come on, Soren. Your sister is waiting for us." They said their goodbyes and left Aravos waiting outside his classroom. Viren could feel the villain's eyes on him as until they walked down a different hall.


	3. Salt & Vinegar

The week passed as a blur, like the rest. Viren avoided the teacher's break room as often as he could. It was getting a little ridiculous when, during Wednesday of the second week, he called in one of his neighboring teacher's to watch his class while he "ran to the bathroom". 

He didn't go to the bathroom. He went to the breakroom for their superior snack machine. Viren could only live off of funyuns for so long. He needed that masochistic pleasure of salt and vinegar. 

As he was leaving, he caught Harrow standing in the main hall. Viren backed up, hiding behind the corner of the wall. This was getting out of control. Was he avoiding _everyone_ now? He knew Harrow had told him to work with Aravos and knowing that slimy snake, the literature teacher had already told Harrow he had not been very receptive to Aravos's help. 

Viren cycled through excuses. He'd been feeling unwell. Claudia was struggling in biology. Soren needed help with applications. Its been a busy work week. 

He held himself tall as he braced himself for the confrontation and he stepped into the main hall. 

The principal was talking to a younger student. When Viren walked past, Harrow gave him a slight gesture and the history teacher knew he wanted to talk. Viren paused and waited, patiently. When the exchange with the child ended, Harrow turned to Viren and Viren started with, "Afternoon, sir."

"Good to see you Viren. Is this your free period?"

"No, I was running to the bathroom, I have Corvus watching my class." 

"I hope he's not trying to teach them history," Harrow jested and Viren chuckled at the idea. He missed Harrow in that moment. They had been closer before Viren's wife left him. Since then Sarai, Harrow's wife, and Viren were constantly butting heads. It drove the two men adrift. Harrow dismissed Viren, "I won't hold you up, but I would like to talk when you have a chance." 

Now was his chance. He would have the upperhand in the conversation. It would be on his time. "Actually, Harrow, I think I might have come across as too desperate in the boardmeeting. I need the other history teachers to work with me on the history fair, not extra hands. I have enough of those." 

"Ah," Harrow said, unsurprised. "I understand Viren, but why don't you give Aravos a chance? He has a lot to offer."

"Of course," Viren submitted as he burned with frustration. He dismissed himself and walked back to the classroom, gritting his teeth.


	4. Historical Literature

Succumbing to the inevitable, Viren found himself in the teacher's breakroom during lunch. He figured he would find Aravos there eventually and they would have a conversation one way or another. As h threw away his trash, the tall literature teacher walked through the door. 

"Afternoon, Viren. Long time, no see," Aravos greeted him with his signature smile.

Viren inhaled quietly, hoping his annoyance wasn't obvious. "Yes, it's been a busy week for me. Harrow told me you had made banners for the fair."

The man nodded. "I have. Come by after dismissal, I'll show you what I have put together. I believe you will like them very much." 

_Doubt it,_ Viren thought. He nodded stiffly, "I look forward to it." And left the breakroom. He could smell Aravos's perfume as he walked down the hall, growing sick of the enticing scent. 

\--

It was a quarter past four when Viren finally made the trek towards the gymnasium and Aravos's classroom. He took his time walking there, his cane echoing rhythmically down the halls. Once outside of Aravos's door, he rapped his cane against the door. 

"Come in," Aravos called from inside and Viren did.

Aravos had a long banner spread across a few desks which he'd pooled together. The rest of the classroom chairs were arranged in a circle. Some new age teaching technique Viren would expect to see an article about in _Teacher's Digest_. Pretentious. 

The history teacher looked over the banners. They were very well constructed,look professional. Viren furrowed his brow. "Did you pay for these?"

"For them to be printed, yes," Aravos said, standing against his desk. "I designed them myself."

"They look very professional," Viren said, the compliment feeling sour in his mouth.

Aravos beamed. "I'm a man of many talents," he spoke coyly in the flaunty way he always spoke, is if his words themselves walked on clouds. 

"What is this..." Viren started as he ran his fingers over the banners, specifically the words which read "historical literature." 

"Harrow and I decided that we would be able to get more student turn out if we combined the academics."

Viren looked sharply at Aravos. Already pushing his limits, weaseling his way into anything and everything possible. Harrow's eagerness for the motion was frustrating as well. Both of them were pushing Viren’s boundaries and buttons. "I wasn't present for this decision," he said sternly. 

Aravos smiled and Viren seethed. "No, but you were clearly too busy to be bothered." 

What a shady son of a bitch. Throwing his own words back at him? Aravos was clever, Viren had to admit it. But Viren was clever too. "Very well." He began folding up the banners, resigning to being cordial. "I'll have some of my students hang these tomorrow."

The literature teacher’s smile grew in satisfaction. "Thank you. I understand change can be hard, Viren, but I am glad we could work together on this." 

Viren attempted to smile, but it came across as a sneer as he put the folded banners under his arm. Much to his surprise, Aravos did not ask him if he needed help, but did open the door for Viren as he left. "And, I hope," Aravos said quietly, almost whispering, "you don't do anything foolish or petty." 

Viren didn't reply and allowed the words to be the last exchange between them. He was going to be petty, no doubt about it. Aravos was new blood and needed to know that--despite how amiable Harrow had been with him.


	5. Witches & Warlocks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> boy howdy, ya'll, I hope you enjoy. do comment your rants, raves, or headcanons, I love reading them <3

The next day came and Viren had a few of his student hang the banners in Hall D--a hallway in the back of the school with the fewest classrooms. Here, Viren proudly thought, the banner would be seen by the fewest amount of students. Afterwards, he hung the older banners from the previous years in more conspicuous locations. 

He was curious to see how Aravos would react. Would he whine to Harrow about it until the principal came to Viren and demanded it change? That would give Viren a clear image of the kind of man Aravos was: a weak one. On the other hand, the history teacher was curious to see if the man would take matters into his own hands. 

It had been two days since the banners went up and Viren was starting to get antsy. When would the consequences of his actions present themselves? He sat behind his desk after school, grading papers while Claudia sat in the back of his classroom doing homework. 

His classroom's door opened suddenly. 

"I warned you, Viren." Aravos's voice broke into the room with an ominous air, grabbing both his and Claudia's attention. He looked to Claudia with concealed surprise, having thought Viren was alone. If he had planned on saying anything else, he thought better. His striking blue eyes darted back to Viren, a challenging gleam in them. Something in that gleam told Viren, despite his tone, Aravos enjoyed this game. The literature teacher closed the door and walked off, his perfume lingering as usual. 

"Oooh, he's going to put a curse on you!" Claudia exclaimed after a few moments of mutually stunned silence. 

"He--what?"

"Mr. Aravos is a witch. Everyone's been talking about it. He's totally going to put a curse on you. Hey, when you're a ghost, does Soren get your car or can I have it?" 

"What? No. He's not a witch, he's not even a woman. And no one gets my car." 

Claudia rolled her eyes, "Ugh, you're so old. You don't have to be a woman to be a witch."

"Yes, you do," Viren argued back, "Male witches are called warlocks."

"No, warlocks are something _completely_ different." She twisted her face in a mocking manner.

Deciding it was futile to argue with his sixteen year old about the specifics of being a witch or warlock, Viren sighed and shook his head, turning back to his work. 

"Soren already _has_ a car." Claudia reminded him a few moments later.

"Finish your homework," Viren grumbled using his stern, fatherly voice, shuffling his papers. The anxious energy of his pettiness had begun to shift into excitement. Aravos was going to play his game. Viren would use this to smear egg on the new blood's face and put him in his place.


	6. Dominated Thoughts

Monday came again, the department heads gathered in the meeting room and discussed lesson plans as usual. Aravos took a seat directly next to Viren and the history teacher could feel the tension between them in his _body_. He spent the meeting worried about shifting and accidentally bumping Aravos. 

At the beginning of the meeting he hadn't realized how much space he had for his legs and brushed his shoe against Aravos. He apologized gruffly and Aravos kindly brushed it off. The casual and easy response from Aravos left Viren seething with anger. They were enemies. Aravos had declared it himself. What kind of power move was this fucker trying? Pretending Viren hadn't started a feud between them? Sitting directly next to him and treating him kinder than he treated most of the other teachers? 

He was too tired and groggy from the laziness of the weekend to cause a scene. He simply watched the man closely, riddled with anger, as he spoke. As much as he hated to admit it, Viren understood why those of weaker willpower could be charmed by the literature teacher. From the way he held himself and the eloquent words he chose. It was bewitching. 

When the meeting was over, Viren waited for the others to leave. His leg made it difficult to walk around the room as quickly and fluid as the other teachers did and he resigned to being the last to leave. He hadn't minded it. Often times it left him and Harrow alone, chatting. It wasn't going to be like that today. Assistant Principcal Sarai had hosted the meeting in Harrow's absence and she was already outside by the time Aravos turned to Viren. "I'd like to go over the fair's organization with you," he said. "Why don't we meet in my classroom after school again?" 

Viren was growing tired of playing on the literature teacher's terms. Always going to _his_ classroom. As much as he reveled in their petty rivalry, a part of him recognized that he had to be professional. This was his job. There were students _actually_ interested in the history fair. "The walk to the gymnasium is rather taxing for me," he said. Guiltless in blaming his physical impairment. "Would you mind if we meet in my room?" 

A look of surprise crossed Aravos. He looked more human than he ever had in that moment and Viren wondered if he was _truly_ surprised. Had he not seen that coming? Was Aravos not as clever as Viren had assumed all of this time? The moment fled and Aravos regain his composure as he said, "Of course, how selfish of me."

The cordial exchanged unnerved and therefore angered Viren as he waited for Aravos to leave the room. 

What was Aravos's plot at revenge? More importantly: _when would it happen_? Was he going to pretend to be human? Pretend to be courteous and nice to Viren before he struck? Would he be kept in suspense for weeks? 

The history teacher's thoughts had quickly become dominated by Aravos. He tried not to let it annoy him as he set up for the day.


	7. Herbal Tea

During first period, Viren began feeling unwell. His body felt stiff and his skin tingled with the tell-tale signs of a fever. He prayed he wasn't getting sick, that perhaps the cheese in his breakfast was disagreeing with him.

By the time lunch was over, Viren didn't have the energy to stand in front of the classroom. Every inch of his body hurt with a strange soreness, stomach churned, and the room lacked color. In his final period, Viren was incapacitated. His voice was strained as he instructed the class to read the chapter and complete a quiz within the book. The period went smoothly until a class clown made a huge disruption. The class erupted into laughter and Viren’s paper-thin patience was broke. He chastised the boy viciously in front of the rest of the class, which sat stunned in silence, and then banished him to sit outside in the hall for the remainder of the class. 

It made him feel better for a fleeting moment. 

The class ended and when everyone was out of the room, Viren buried his head in his hands. He’d have to call in a substitute for the next few days, he realized with trepidation. Viren didn’t get ill often and this was a serious inconvenience for him. Sick days were best used as vacation days. Or when one of his kids got sick themselves. On top of everything, it was Monday, meaning he would likely miss at least three days of work. 

He heard his door open and instantly remembered he was supposed to be expecting _someone_. A new wave of sickness surged throughout him. “Is everything okay, Viren?” Aravos’s voice called to him. The tone the man spoke in sounded mocking, as if Aravos was enjoyed seeing him unwell.

Viren pulled his head out of his hands, his posture slacked as he gave the literature teacher and angry, paled face sneer. “No, I’m sick.” He said plainly.

“You do look horrible,” Aravos replied coldly. “Should I make you some tea?”

That was nice of him and Viren suspected foul play. After arguing against it, Aravos left the room and Viren found himself waiting for his return. He came back with a warm, fragrant cup. As soon as Viren smelt the tea entering the room, an instinctual part of him knew it _would_ help. Aravos handed him the cup with his own hands wrapped around its base. The pass off was a strangely tender motion as Viren’s fingers replaced Aravos’s.

The history teacher held the steaming cup to his face, taking in the smell and the relief that it gave him. After a moment, he took a sip. His mind felt clearer. He opened his eyes slowly, seeing Aravos standing in front of him with more color and clarity than previous. “Thank you…” Viren breathed, baffled by the gesture of kindness. The sip of tea had been a breath of fresh air and he opted to savor it as he put the tea atop a notebook on his desk. 

Aravos smiled, “Of course. I understand if you preferred not to work on the fair today. I can work out some organization on my own.”

The words hit Viren like a gunshot. That snake! “No,” He declared, sitting up in his chair. It was insanity to assume Aravos had poisoned him, but Viren believed it for a fleeting moment. “No need. You were right, I’ll be better after I finish this tea.” Viren took another sip of it, making eye contact with Aravos as the snake smiled. “Why don’t you come back in 20 minutes?” He requested, sounding more tired than he intended.

A dumb look crossed Aravos’s face and he said, “Of course. I’ll be back.” He paused at the door, looking over his shoulder at Viren. “Feel better.” He smiled and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! hope you enjoyed this chapter! feel free to add/msg me on tumblr if you have any feedback! my url is virenvermin


	8. Dead Mouse

It took Viren only a few minutes to greedily gulp down the tea. Every sip only made him feel better and better. By the time he was done with it, he collapsed on his desk, arms sprawling on top of his papers. He didn’t feel sick anymore, he was simply _exhausted_.

His eyes searched the face of the clock on his wall. Why did he ask Aravos to come back in _twenty_ minutes? He should have asked for forty. He closed his eyes for a moment, relieved to be free from his ailments. As he rested his eyes and breathed deeply, he began to smell something foul. Viren screwed up his face and sat up. Did someone leave a rotten lunch behind in his class? 

He stood up, sniffing. It was definitely coming from his desk. Did _he_ leave his lunch in a drawer to rot? Viren searched through his drawers. Nothing. He shuffled papers, moved things around on his desk. Nothing. 

Staring at the desk, he tried to think of where to look. Succumbing to his desperation, he got on his knees and searched the floor. The smell grew stronger. Perhaps something was _under_ his desk. He looked in the small crack between the floor and the bottom drawer. It appeared clear.

From his vantage point, however, he noticed a bundle discretely taped to the side of his desk.He squinted at it, _What the fuck…_ and pulled it off. It was definitely the source of the smell and he felt the familiar sickness hit him again all at once. This time, however, it slowly began to fade away. Viren got up from the floor and sat in his chair. The bundle could easily fit in the palm of his hand and smelt putrid. Apprehensive, he grabbed a pen and carefully began to dissect it.

There was a thick piece of black cloth holding it together. Once he found the seam and flipped it open, the contents inside spilled across his desk and he jumped back in disgust. A few dried flowers with sepia petals made a bed for a half-decayed mouse, it’s belly cut open and entrails pulled out. Viren covered his mouth as he felt himself gag and the his classroom’s door opened.

His head snapped towards Aravos, his eyes wide as the shock still gripped him. Aravos held another cup of tea and was silent, expressionless. His eyes travelled to the eviscerated mouse on Viren’s desk. He didn’t ask about it, and simply looked back to Viren. They held eye contact with each other as Viren began to fear the unknown. What was happening? Was Claudia actually _right_?

It was impossible. Witchcraft was fake.

Viren lowered his hand from his mouth and finally asked, “Did you do this? Did you… try to _curse_ me?” He asked, the words feeling idiotic.

Aravos finally smiled and Viren was relieved to see _any_ sort of reaction from the man. “It’s called a hex.” He walked over and swept the bundle off of Viren’s desk with his hand, and Viren had to jump out of the way of the dead mouse as it fell to the floor. Aravos then put the tea cup down on the space he cleared. “And I warned you.”

For the first time in a long time, Viren felt fear rather than anger or rivalry.


	9. Unimpressive & Lackluster

Viren sat frozen, unable to fully process the situation. The dead mouse lay by his feet, the dried flowers over his shoes.

Magic. Wasn’t. Real. Viren’s logic argued against what he had just experienced. Magic was something men invented to scare their enemies or silence strong women. The world wasn’t magical. It was a dreary place. It was disappointing, unimpressive, and lackluster. 

He was completely at Aravos's mercy. He couldn't move. He couldn’t speak. The last time he had been this debilitated his wife told him she was leaving. That was normal--that was _dreary_. Magic being real was breaking an entirely new perspective. 

Aravos was smug but tried to act sympathetic, “It is a lot to process, I understand.” He picked the cup up from the desk and offered it to Viren. “Drink.”

Viren’s fearful eyes locked with Aravos’s. He momentarily regained his senses as fear burned into rage. A heartbeat after the literature teacher offered him the cup, Viren smacked it out of the other’s hands. Water spilt across his desk, but Viren couldn’t be bothered by it. “I’m not drinking your poison,” he said. 

Aravos was calm. He waited until Viren's aggression fell under the weight of his exhaustion. 

He stepped in the space between Viren and his desk and sat against it. Viren pushed back against his chair to create distance, looking into his empty classroom. He had no more defenses. He was too physically and mentally exhausted to fight back. He felt like a mouse who had met a cat for the first time.

Aravos hooked a finger under Viren's chin to pull his head up, draw the attention back to the man standing in front of him. Viren made forced eye contact with those haunting eyes. They looked different, Viren considered, but he couldn't say why. "We don't have to be enemies, Viren. You have a gift. I can teach you how to use it." 

Viren's head throbbed as his eyes fluttered. Aravos's eye brows raised while the corners of his vision darkened. "Oh. Viren. You should have drank the tea. You're about to--" Viren fainted.


	10. Disciple of Magic

Claudia and Soren had helped Viren to his car, much to his chagrin, and took him home. He hated looking ill in front of his children; he hated seeing them worry about him. The next morning Sarai called him and instructed he stay home. Soren had called and talked to her about Viren being sick. She insincerely told him to feel better before hanging up.

Both his kids insisted on staying to take care of him but Viren did not want them fussing over him like he was a frail creature. They left for school and he spent the day in bed, sick with his own thoughts. 

Wednesday came. While Viren felt better, he still felt hungover. He woke up early and made himself toast, keeping the kitchen lights off. Besides the stove, he found a a small package with a note taped to it. Written was "Tea for Dad," in Claudia's handwriting. Viren examined the box and the thin brown parchment it was wrapped in-- covered in quaint stars. 

Begrudgingly, he unwrapped it. _Take your medicine_ , he thought in a voice unfamiliar to him. 

Viren continued to sit in the dark as he held the warm cup of tea. He slowly sipped it, closing his eyes as he felt its medicinal power over him. 

Through his closed eyelids he saw the light turned on and he suppressed a sigh. "What are you doing sitting alone in the dark?" Claudia said and Viren opened his eyes to look at her. 

"Good morning to you, too," he said. She rolled her eyes, shook her head, and sniffed. 

"You found the tea," She said, "Mr. Aravos was nice enough to send it."

 _I know,_ he thought. Viren nodded and took another sip. The rest of the morning passed. Claudia made breakfast for her and Soren while Viren stuck to his toast. They all sat together at the table, Soren and Claudia bickering over something while Viren quietly drank his tea.

When it was time to leave, Viren argued with Soren over who would drive. Viren won. Soren sat crossed armed in the back seat the most of the drive.

The history teacher considered how much he appreciated his children, even if he wasn't great at displaying it. They had chose him when his wife hadn't. He couldn't imagine the kind of person he would have became if he lost their mother and them at the same time. A broken one, drowning in self loathing and loneliness, that was for sure.

They parted after Viren parked and he walked to his classroom alone. He spent the entire morning checking his desk and his classroom for more hex bags. He didn't find any. 

\---

At lunch, Viren ate in his room and was visited by Aravos. The _witch_ opened the door and slid into the room without knocking. "Feeling better, Viren?" He asked coolly. 

"Yes, thank you," Viren replied stiffly. On edge. 

"Did you consider my offer?"

"I’ve _considered_. I have a few questions." 

Aravos sat on a student's desk, crossing his legs and waiting for Viren to start. 

"What are you?" 

He tilted his head, curious. "What do you mean?" 

"Are you a wi--a warlock?" A pause. "Are you human?" 

Aravos let out a deep chuckle. "I am a disciple of magic. Witchcraft, some might say." 

"Witchcraft?" Viren repeated. "What does that mean? You consort with the devil?" He asked mockingly. 

Aravos shrugged. "There are those who see it that way." There was a moment of hesitation. “I have been looking for someone with the gift for a long time. It is very rare, Viren. I can teach you. Show you how to obtain anything you want." Aravos stood, closed the distance between him and Viren. He planted his hands on the side of Viren's desk chair and leaned over him, smothering him with his perfume. "What do you deeply desire, Viren?”

The history teacher leaned away in his chair and sat in silent contemplation, staring behind Aravos in his thoughts. He wanted power. Being constantly overruled and shot down grew old. He had had his chance for it once before--during his rocky divorce the position of assistant principal had opened up. Harrow had come to Viren as his first choice but the man was too much of a wreck to handle the responsibility. 

Sarai had filled the position instead of him.

Viren shot down the thoughts as he looked at Aravos, leaning over him. He held his eyes. “Why should I trust you?” he asked sharply.

The bell rang, indicating the end of lunch. Aravos pushed off Viren's chair and grinned. “I will give you more time to consider.” The literature teacher left. 

Viren dug through his desk for the air freshener. He sprayed it, masking Aravos’s lingering scent as his students began to stagger in.


	11. Teenage Drama

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! As always, thank you for reading! Things are going to start getting darker, if I need to tag any additional content warnings, please let me know! Enjoy (-;

The day passed with Viren on edge. He felt better than he had on Tuesday, yet his leg was bothering him, a new physical ailment arrised--as it always did.

Viren fumed over his never-ending misfortune, came across as short-tempered and snippy. He accepted that his week was not going to get any better.

His students this semester, as they had every year before, came to understand him as a strict lecturer. And since his outburst on Monday (which students had certainly gossiped about during the days he was absent) no one dared to be disruptive.

In his second to last period, however, he caught one girl texting the middle of his lecture. His class knew his zero tolerance for cellphones in his class. This child was blantantly disrespecting him. 

Viren came to a full stop in his lecture on Rome and stood like a stone, both his hands on his cane at the front of the class. Moving with his leg as stiff as it was would be too painful today. He stared at the girl as she tapped away. He waited. The class waited. Watched her as she paused to reread her message. 

And then she felt it. She looked up from her phone, her eyes meeting Viren's intense stare, framed by his dark eyebrows. 

The terror he saw in her eyes when they made eye contact was empowering. "Bring me your phone," he ordered as he reached out his hand.

"No, wait, Mr. Viren, I'll put it away, I promise," she begged, turnning the screen off.

He spoke slowly, fighting to keep his anger out of his voice. "No, Jemina, you know the rules. Bring me your phone." 

She sucked her teeth as she debated with her teenage urge to rebel. And then looked back at her phone, "Ok, let me just send this..."

Viren's patience snapped like a bundle of branches. "Absolutely not!" He said, ignroing the pain shooting up his leg as he strutted forward and pulled the phone out of her hands.  "What is so important," Viren said, looking at the phone and reading the text outloud to the class.

It was stupid, teenage drama--childish to Viren. Terribly personal. The girl fought tears as he shared her personal drama with the entire class. She held herself together, but was distraught and silent for the remainder of the class.

\---

Sarai interrupted his next and final period. She pulled him into the hallway, a look of determination on her face which Viren was afraid of.

"I'm taking you off of the history fair committee." 

Viren looked at her, dumbfounded. "I-I beg your pardon?" 

"You heard me. You've been uncooperative with Harrow's instruction to work with the English department--" 

"Has Aravos been complaining?" He snapped. He knew he couldn't trust that two-faced snake. 

"No. Nobody has had to tell me anything, I can see your unprofessional behaviors for myself."

"Unprofessional?" Viren retorted, his voice echoed down the hall. He brough his tone down, "Does Harrow know about this or are you doing it behind his back?" 

A fierceness burned between them as Sarai glared Viren down. When she spoke, her voice was cold. "I am capable of making decisions for the school on my own. You're lucky I'm not taking you off the board. And if you refuse to listen to me or try to go over my head I _will_ have you suspended, without pay." 

Viren stood, unable to find words to fight against her. Sarai nodded to him, straightening the bottom of her blouse. "So, Viren. You have been taken off the the history fair committee. Perhaps you can use your free time to get a grip on yourself." She opened the door for him and gestured for him to return to his class. Boiling with anger, he submitted. Told the class to do whatever they wanted for the rest of the period and furiously listened to their chatter as he waited for the class to end. 

As soon as the bell rang, Viren he rushed out of his room, leaving a few students in his class. He headed straight towards the gymnasium and walked into Aravos's class. 

The auburn haired man was talking to a student at his desk, but made eye contact with Viren. He finished his conversation and smiled at the history teacher. 

"Teach me." Viren said plainly and Aravos's smile grew wider.


End file.
